Have a Holly Jolly Christmas

Long story short: My modem died, I spent time with my family, my mother had a heart attack. I'll blog more after the first, so, for now, have yourself a wonderful holiday season.

You know you're from eastern Kentucky if:

You've ever pumped gas while wearing a prom dress.

You've ever stood in line at the grocery store behind a man covered in coal dust with reflective tape all over his clothes.

Breakfast usually consists of some form of gravy and biscuits, and you know the proper way to sop your egg in it.

You put balogna in your gravy.

Vienna sausages are pronounced vie-eeney.

You have a tricked-out pickup truck or sports car, a beautiful bass boat and live in a run-down house with an overgrown yard.

When you drive down the road, you pass singlewides that look almost abandoned except for the DirecTV dish attached to the side.

You still pull over to the side of the road until the funeral procession gets completely by.

If you didn't pull over, the cops in front of the procession would call you later and tell you you're a low-life.

You have eaten brown sop, know what it is, know how bad it is for you, and love it anyway.

You say "quiled" instead of coiled when it comes to a snake that is about to bite you.

You aren't afraid of snakes like city people are because you know how to blow their heads off and do so frequently with your daddy's .22.

Bears are interesting and scary and part of the scenery. They come up on your porch when you least expect it.

You have stepped in cow poop. Barefoot. It doesn't bother you. If you're a child, it actually feels kinda neat.

You pick blackberries in the summer and play monopoly at home in the winter because, when it snows, you don't go to school.

Christmas break starts December 20 and ends March 1, or whenever the snow melts.

You have eaten snow cream and appreciated it.

You know better than to eat the yellow snow.

You have drunk out a spring at one time in your life and know how great the water tastes, especially on a hot, humid summer day.

If you're a male, you and your friends have made designs in the snow with urine. A perfect 10 is hard to get, but my uncle says he can do it and has.

Your grandparents are Paw and Maw or Mammaw and Pappaw. There are no deviations.

At least one side of your grandparents is dead before you are born because your mom or dad is the youngest child and was born when said grandparents were 40 to 45.

Happy Birthday to Me!

I'm now officially 32. I rock.

Congratulations, #10 and #44

Well, basketball season is over now for my boys. This was their first year of playing school ball. We also have a local league that lets children as young as 5 play, and it's unisex, which is great. However, this year, my big boys were able to don the blue and white and play for their own school.

My boys are tall. They are 9 and already up to my shoulder. They wear size 7 shoes -- men's shoes. My family consists of a bunch of tall people, and the men are usually built like linebackers. I'm happy to see that K & B are following my side instead of their sawed-off bio-dad's.

My uncles all began lifting weights at about 14. They are now the kind of men who can wear kilts even in Kentucky without a word said by anyone. I grew up surrounded by big, strapping men. My house was filled with athletic shoes, ankle weights, basketballs, footballs, white socks, and the smell of aftershave and workout sweat. I have missed that so much. Until now. Yet again, my house is filled with these things, except for the weights, which I am sure will follow in about 4 years. Nevertheless, I am so grateful to be surrounded by loving men yet again. I am so happy that my daughter will get to know what it feels like to be lifted up in the air by strong and loving hands.

Congratulations, K & B. You performed well and behaved exceptionally, whether in victory or defeat. Now it's on to local league ball. :)